A New India
Chapter 161 - 161: End of Khalid

But deep inside, Khalid knew something wasn't right.

Even as he gazed out of the window, the consequences of his actions broke him.

The agency was indeed weakened, morale shattered, and even the men closest to him now feared his wrath.

His purge had instilled more chaos than control.

His once loyal officers whispered in the halls, uncertain if they were the next to be dragged into those interrogation rooms.

The foundation of ISI, the one institution that had always stood strong in Pakistan's turbulent political landscape, was cracking.

Khalid had brought the agency to its knees with his paranoia.

Still, he stood tall, convinced that R&AW's mole had been the root of all this.

He needed to cut away the cancer, he told himself.

There was no other way.

But even he couldn't ignore the calling, the doubt that crept up the back of his mind,

Had he gone too far?

----

Far away from Islamabad, in one of the surviving ISI safehouses near Karachi,

Colonel Tariq's team, who had barely escaped capture, remained hidden.

They had yet to know the full extent of what had happened in Islamabad.

With Tariq captured, they knew the days ahead would be brutal.

But they also feared their own agency more than they feared R&AW.

"Do you think Khalid has gone mad?" whispered Major Faisal, glancing nervously out of the small window.

He had been a part of the team tasked with protecting Tariq, and now he felt the noose tightening around his own neck.

"Of course he has," replied Captain Bilal, Tariq's right-hand man, who had barely managed to escape the raid on the compound.

His face was etched with exhaustion, eyes bloodshot from days without sleep.

"Khalid's going after everyone who even shook hands with Tariq. And he'll come for us next."

"What do we do? Do we run?" Faisal asked, fear creeping into his voice.

Bilal shook his head. "There's no running. Khalid's purge will reach us, but if we leave, we'll be branded as traitors. And you know what happens to traitors."

Both men fell silent, the tension hanging heavy in the air. They knew what came next, Khalid's purge would find them.

---

Back in Islamabad, Khalid was deep in thought. Rashid's words, though soft, rang in his mind.

The man had warned him, begged him to stop, but Khalid couldn't.

He had Ayub Khan's approval, and in his mind, that was all he needed.

He had destroyed everyone he suspected had been part of the conspiracy.

Major Imran, Major Ai, Colonel Khan all of them had fallen under his wrath.

Some had been executed, others had simply disappeared.

But no matter how many men he purged, no matter how many heads rolled, there was still no sign of the mole.

Rashid entered Khalid's office, hesitating at the door. "Sir, we've... we've received some troubling reports."

Khalid turned to face him, the darkness in his eyes deepening. "What reports?"

Rashid took a deep breath. "There's talk, quiet, but it's spreading. Your purge... it's breaking the agency, sir. The men... they're afraid.

Many think you're next on R&AW's list."

Khalid's eyes narrowed. "They think I'm next? So now I'm the traitor in their eyes?"

Rashid quickly shook his head. "No, no, sir. That's not what I meant. It's just... morale is collapsing. And R&AW, well, they're waiting.

Watching. We're tearing ourselves apart."

Khalid paced back and forth, the fury building inside him once more.

But this time, it wasn't just directed at the suspected moles.

It was directed inward. The realization was setting in, his purge, his desperation, had indeed ripped the agency apart.

And then, a cold, cruel thought crossed his mind: What if this was R&AW's plan all along?

Maybe there was no mole.

Maybe the capture of Tariq was just a distraction, a way to destabilize ISI from the inside.

They hadn't needed to infiltrate the agency at all,

Khalid had done their work for them.

He had torn his own agency apart with his paranoia, executing men who had been loyal all along.

Khalid sat down heavily in his chair, the weight of his own actions pressing down on him.

For the first time in weeks, Khalid Qureshi felt something he had not felt in a long time.

Doubt.

-----

Across Islamabad, whispers about Khalid's madness were growing louder.

Officers who once revered him now feared his unpredictable wrath.

Abdul Rashid, who had been Khalid's most loyal ally, now found himself questioning everything.

As Khalid sat alone in his office, his eyes drifting toward the handgun on his desk, the realization of his own failure washed over him.

The men he had trusted the most had either been killed, tortured, or exiled.

The agency he had dedicated his life to was now fractured, weakened, and on the verge of collapse.

In the far distance, the life in Islamabad continued as usual, but inside the halls of ISI, a deep silence had settled.

The purge had decimated the agency's structure.

More than fifty officers had been interrogated, dozens executed, and even more had been placed under surveillance.

As Khalid stared out of the window, lost in his thoughts, Rashid entered the room again, his face grim.

"There's a phone call for you, sir," Rashid said, his tone cautious.

Khalid raised an eyebrow, silently urging him to continue.

"It's General Ayub Khan."

Khalid swallowed hard.

He knew what was coming.

Picking up the phone, Khalid listened as Ayub's cold, steely voice cut through the silence.

"Khalid, it's time. We can't continue like this. The agency is bleeding. You are the reason for this chaos."

Khalid's grip on the phone tightened, his heart pounding in his chest.

Ayub's voice was calm but final. "You've done your part, but it's time for a change. You're being relieved of your command. We'll clean up what's left, and someone else will take over."

Khalid's breath hitched, but he didn't argue. He couldn't.

The line went dead.

Khalid put the phone down slowly, his fingers trembling as they hovered over the receiver.

It was over.

His reign at ISI had come to an end, not at the hands of R&AW, but at his own.

The paranoia, the violence, the purge, it had all consumed him, leaving nothing but a hollow shell of the man he once was.

He sat there, staring at the empty desk before him, his actions crashing down like a tidal wave.

The mighty Khalid Qureshi, the man who had once commanded fear and respect, had fallen, destroyed not by enemies from the outside, but by the darkness he had let fester within.